#Jason woke up in his grave around the same time as Tim knocked on Dicks door… so yeah | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dairy-farmer · 2 years

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Sorry, sorry if this question is poorly worded, but english is not my first language, but I love everything you write, you're great. I also have an idea in my head, but I can't write anything. Could you write me something where Bruce is Tim's biological father, is very possessive of him, and have a relationship.

thank you so much!!! I'm so happy you enjoy my work!! 🥰 and anon you might have the best timing I've ever seen!! I just finished a thread just like this based on a sinailr concept of bio dad bruce having a relationship ship with tim from these few tweets from this Twitter user!!!

❤️❤️❤️ talk about knocking out two birds with one stone ❤️❤️❤️

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bruce has never felt for someone the way he has for tim. with dick, with jason: being their father had been different. it had felt different. there was something about tim that just filled bruce with some kind of satisfaction.

maybe it was because they were fucking. it hadn't been on purpose, bruce wasn't some depraved monster that was just waiting on the opportunity to prey on an unsupervised child.

but bruce he...after jason... he hadn't been in a good place. the world had been dark and he'd felt so hopeless. tim had squirmed in and in the beginning bruce had resented him. he'd hated him. wanted him gone. bruce didn't remember their first time. the alcohol had hazed his mind, blurred his memory.

when he woke up with tim on his lap, his softened cock nestled into a little wet pussy and soft snoring pressed to his chest. bruce should've been horrified. he should've been disgusted. but instead he'd stared. stared at where they were joined and at the dried spurts of cum coloring his cock and tim's cunt.

tim woke up slowly, lips smacking with drool and lifting his head up to stare at bruce who was silently watching him.

bruce should've taken that serious, grave and asked tim if he was alright. if he could tell him what happened.

instead all he could pay attention to was the shift of warm walls wrapped around his cock. tim was so stretched and sloppy around him and he was already wet with bruce's cum so he'd just...

tim had looked so good getting fucked on bruce's office floor. his head had been thrown back, mouth open and gasping on his moans as bruce brutally fucked him. every bit of hurt, rage and anguish was pumped into tim's needy little pussy until bruce was cumming so hard he could barely feel the hole in his chest.

and afterwards...when the clarity returned to him. when he looked down and saw what he’d done. tim reddened and split open pussy drolling white, hot cum down his thighs, all he could feel was a sense of fulfillment. of accomplishment and lax pleasure.

maybe using sex to heal from trauma wasn't the best thing to do. maybe using the kid that he took under his wing made him a monster. but after a few weeks, he and tim developed into something...something more.

they worked together better, understood each other on a deeper level. they had things in common, interests and hobbies. they liked the same foods, disliked the same people. maybe it wouldve been easier to keep his distance like he’d been planning if he and tim didn't...get along so well.

bruce likes seeing tim, likes talking and interacting with him. the sex only gets better the closer they grow. it numbs bruce from the moments where he's reminded of jason but it also fills him with so much...arousal.

seeing as tim bends over for him, gets on his knees for him, spread his legs. bruce injects tim every other month with enough hormones to ensure he won't get pregnant. it's the easiest method they can get away with because alfred checks the medical supplies.

he'd see the birth control pills or the condoms but also....

bruce likes how it feels. he likes the hot grip of tim's unprotected pussy. he likes soaking his walls with enough cum to have it leaking out of the side of his cock that he plugs in him.

and tim doesn't mind. he hums in pleasure, makes soft noises as bruce presses down on his lower gut, right over his womb so he watch cum drip out of him in an obscene way. in reward for letting him cum as deep and often as he wants, bruce massages tim's little pink clit.

he fondles it until tim’s hips are squirming, trying to escape his hands, white pearly tears dripping down his cheeks as he whines "bruce! bruce! bruce!". bruce couldn't help the odd feeling that flooded him at the sound of his name coming from tim's pretty mouth. it's not that he didn't like it. but something about it felt...off.

he and tim have been sharing a bed for months when bruce is doing a routine health check on tim's. it's performed once a year and is similar to a physical. it's the first one tim's had since becoming robin.

bruce isn't even paying attention, he's working on something else while waiting for results from tim's blood test to come up. he's testing for hCG while he's at it too not that bruce thinks something mightve gotten messed up.

but it's better to be on top of that sort of thing. he and tim have been having sex A LOT. almost a few times every other day and bruce doesn't exactly hold back from cumming inside him. in fact bruce is waiting for tim to come back from school. he's been nursing a half hard cock most of the day since he woke up.

normally he'd press tim's sleeping thighs open and fuck him awake, cumming deep enough into him he'd be leaking all day. but it had been a long night.

tim's parents had returned for a week so tim spent time over there instead of the manor.

so bruce got used to sleeping in a bit later and ended up waking up after tim had already left. bruce was lost in thought when the results chimed in with results.

a gray box stating tim's blood had (2) matches on record appeared on the screen, which had bruce frowning because his data bank only had a specific brand of people loaded up on it. people he'd personally input himself.

bruce opens it and immediatly recalls a habit he'd gotten into when he 'fucked up'. that being having unprotected sex. bruce couldn't have his DNA on record because the risk of someone picking up a sample of his as batman after a rough fight and getting a match. it was too high.

so when bruce was younger and messed up with his various hookups he'd steal a swap or two and take a little blood to test for diseases in the cave. it was good practice for the newly put in forensic system and it saved him a trip to leslie.

bruce never worried about pregnancy because it was high society and wealthy, cultured women he fucked. women with careers and ambitions and babies just didn't fit into those plans. most used birth control. janet drake, it seemed, hadn't.

bruce remembered her. well actually he remembered the sweet cocktails on her tongue as they'd drunkenly hooked up in the hall outside a party. a drunken fuck. bruce too blitzed to remember it. it's ironic almost. like mother like son.

bruce stares at the match for "maternal line" and then let his eyes drift to the "paternal line" match. he should be sickened. he should be putting his hands on his knees and heaving with vomit burning at the back of his throat.

but all he can feel is a vague feeling of victory.

bruce hadn’t been happy when tim's parents returned. he especially hadn't been happy listening as tim babbled on about his dad and all the things he promised to do with tim now that he was back in town.

bruce had dismissed the strange feeling in his gut as discomfort from the fresh memory of his and jason's relationship but now he could identify that bitter tang in the back of his throat. jealousy. anger. frustration. it was why he'd kept tim on his cock the entire day leading up to his return to his home next door.

something about jack had tickled something in bruce. alerted a feeling of possessiveness in him because try as he might, tim belonged to jack first. he came from jack's seed, was raised by his hand, he was the one tim tripped over himself to follow and greet with a wide smile.

but that wasn't true was it?

bruce was deleting the results, removing the parameter to find matches automatically from the system. he didn't think of what tim would think, didn't want to risk the chance that he'd want to stop what they were doing.

not when bruce...not when he finally found what he needed. he'd lost his child and maybe through some screwed up twist of fate a son was being returned to him.

something in his had 'clicked' when he saw those results.

his and tim's overwhelming similarities. that odd connection he'd felt for tim that he hadn't for dick or jason. the way his hands gripped and held tim when they fucked. making him take all of him, trying to stake a claim even when he knew he had a father.

well. not really. jack was more of a...fill in. he didn't have more of a right to tim than anyone else, certainly not more than bruce who knew tim. in the biblical sense.

bruce never mentions it. if anything he hides it. tim never seems to view bruce as anything other than a mentor but...eventually...after jack and janet pass and tim is as lost as bruce was after jason died. then. THEN he sees bruce as the father he always was.

and bruce cannot express the joy and satisfaction that overflows in him when tim first claws at him, scrambling for purchase and crying out "daddy! daddy!" with tears streaming down as bruce fucks into his little cunt.

tim had shivered and gasped, clenching around him so tightly when bruce first groaned in his ear, asking him to "tell daddy how good it feels". tim's cunt had gotten so sloppy and wet when bruce started stroking tim, calling him his sweet baby boy. cupping his tits and kissing them. asking if he liked when daddy kissed his little tits.

pressing fingers into him and asking him if he liked when daddy touched him 'down there'. bruce could see the desperation grow on tim's face. with every hitch of his breath and arch into bruce's body. every strained nod and broken moan.

until finally. finally. bruce's efforts were rewarded.

tim was sobbing, cheeks red and legs spread open obscenely, his pussy was sucking bruce in and coating it in clear slick from his gushing pretty cunt.

"oh my baby, you take me so good," bruce praised in his ear. he was pressing tim into the mattress, rocking their bodies together and holding back the heat bubbling in him as gripped tims hips to fuck him deeper.

"oh you're being so good for daddy, taking his cock, you want my cum baby? you want daddy to cum in you?"

tim's eyes were rolled to the back of his skull. his mouth was open only capable of letting out choked whines. bruce's cock was snug inside tim, stretching him out.

bruce could feel his cock was right at the base of tim's womb, head right against the cervix as he idly thrusted in. one of bruce's hands was tightly gripping tim's tit, squeezing it and digging hard fingers in until tim weakly moaned.

bruce couldn't get off until he heard tim beg him to cum inside, until he begged his daddy to fuck him hard, to finish in him. bruce had thoughts of one of the times taking. of him knocking tim up with both his grandchild and child. tim being pregnant with both his sibling and baby.

bruce fucked in a little deeper at the thought and tim jolted, his little pussy clenched and contracted around bruce. he opened up so easy as bruce fed more cock into him.

bruce had gotten tim's cunt used to the stretch of him. before it used to be a struggle to fuck in and bottom out but now bruce could slide in and tim fit like a glove. all snug and hot and wet.

"you don't let anyone but daddy fuck you do you?" bruce let out a breathless sigh at the tight grip tim had on his cock. fuck he was getting so close. "only daddy can put anything inside you-"

fingers, a tongue, cock, a fucking baby.

tim was his. all his. whether he knew the extent of which that was true or not. no one could ever have tim like bruce did, not when he was made from bruce’s very DNA.

constructed in his image and perfect. meant for this. meant for bruce. tim has been squirming more at his words, gasping and letting out choked groans as he tried to fuck down on the cock lodged inside him.

"b-bruce!! nnnmmm please! bru-"

"that's not my name," bruce replied even as he felt his balls clench tight. " you know what to say to get what you want baby."

bruce followed with a tender stroke of tim's cheek and tim broke.

"daddy!" tim was on the verge of wailing, his eyes scrunched and forehead creased in pleasure as he felt bruce rear back. "daddy please mmmnn please! PLEASE!"

there's something sick in bruce. broken even. bruce lost something when jason died, something that turned him into a man that would do this. that would gleefully swallow his child whole.

bruce covers tim's body with his as they cum together because they only ever cum together. he buries his moans in tim's tender throat as he bursts pure white into his young womb.

tim arches his hips off the bed, legs wrapped tightly around bruce's waist to keep him inside, so addicted to the pleasure of orgasms ripping through him with bruce tucked inside and warming him from within.

tim sobs, little sounds interspersed with pleading whines of 'daddy' as bruce grunts. fireworks flying behind his eyelids as he releases into tim, filling him to the brim with the same hot cum that made him.

"baby," bruce moans, repeating it like a broken record. cradling tim closer as he thrust in at another burst of cum. "my baby, fuck nnnmm yes, yes nnngh take me, take all of me-"

tim exists because of him, for him.

he's bruce's. only bruce's.

bruce lets out a drawn out moan, swallowing his son's sobbing cries with his mouth and swirling his tongue in that hot, sweet mouth.

all of of tim was HIS. and bruce would make sure to enjoy every bit.

#anonymous #answered asks #asks

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awhitehead17 · 4 years

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Whumptober 2020: Day 4 - Running out of time

Prompt: Buried Alive

Summary: When Jason wakes up in a dark and confined space, it starts bringing up bad memories he would rather forget.

Enjoy! :D

Startling awake, Jason instantly makes a move to sit up but when his head unexpectantly thumps against something solid he lies back down with a curse. Rubbing the now sore part of his forehead he takes in his surroundings.

Well he attempts to take in his surroundings, because all he could make out is darkness. He waves his hand in front of his face and couldn’t even see it. He blinks his eyes to double check that they were open, however when he opens them again nothing had changed.

Figuring vision was a bust Jason checks everything else to try and work out what was going on. The first thing he notices is that he wasn’t wearing his helmet (the fact that he smacked his head really should have told him that) nor was he wearing a domino mask. The second thing was that he was in still dressed in his gear however was missing the familiar weight of his guns strapped to his thighs and in his jacket pockets.

While all of that was worrying, his biggest concern was actually the third thing; the fact that he’s laying down in what appeared to be a small and enclosed space. Jason reaches out and a lot sooner than what he would have liked, his hands meet something solid. He moves them to his side and finds the same result, his arms weren’t even fully stretched, still bent at the elbow.

He curses and instantly starts trying to control his breathing to long deep breaths. It’s been literal minutes since he woke up and he could already feel his chest going tight and the panic creeping in.

He needs to get out of here.

But out of where? He has no idea where he was or what even happened. Jason takes a moment to try and figure it out. He had been with Red Robin and Nightwing, dealing with the Riddler as he babbled away his latest plan and how the only way to stop him was by solving the series of riddles he had created.

Jason had been glad Tim was there, while he was fairly intelligent and not stupid, the kid just seems to have a knack for those kind of things. Jason had been hoping they could wrap it up fairly quickly and head home for the night.

Something had happened to them all just after solving the fourth riddle… but what was it? There was sudden smoke which caught them off guard and then there was darkness? After that Jason had woken up in a dark box like thing. Had the Riddler knocked them out and then separated them? If so, were they okay? Were they in a similar position to what he’s currently in?

Jason shakes his head. He can worry about them once he’s gotten himself free. Right now he needs to work out a way out without having a panic attack. Just being in darkness, knowing he’s in a small box just brings back disturbing memories, ones he really wished he didn’t remember.

God his chest was growing tight. Was that to do with the impending panic building up inside of him or the fact it was getting hard to breathe? Probably both.

He doesn’t even know where he is. He’s in a box, but where? Is he above ground stored away somewhere, buried six feet underground or lost in the ocean? Wherever it is, Jason needs to get out. He needs to be able to breathe again, see the open sky above him, stretch his body out where it wasn’t tightly contained.

It was dark, so dark, where not even an inch of light was reaching him. It was like that time all those years ago… No! No, that isn’t the case this time. He’s alive, uninjured, had family who were looking for him, who’ll come and get him so he doesn’t have to dig himself out of his own grave again….

What if they don’t come? What if they aren’t even looking? What if he never gets out? He’s just going to shrivel up into nothing, die of dehydration or starvation or oxygen deprivation…

He lashes out, hitting the thing centimetres above his head. He punches it, kicks it while screaming at the top of his lungs. He needs to get out of there, it can’t be happening again, it can’t be…

He loses track of time but enough of it had passed for him to be feeling the effects of his fit. His body was aching all over, his head was pounding and he could hear his heart beating in his ears, his throat was dry and raw, his chest was tight from where he was struggling to breathe.

No one was coming, they were going to leave him here, all alone to die again like back when he was Robin. A broken sob makes it way out of him. He didn’t want to die. He probably deserved to but he’s trying to be better, he’s on good terms with the family, he helps saves, lives, no longer shoots people, saves kids and takes them off the streets when he can. He’s trying to do better. He doesn’t want to die.

A sound from somewhere above gets his attention, it causes a spark of hope to travel through him. With newfound energy he bangs on the top of his box, once again screaming with as much gusto as he could despite his raw throat and tight chest.

A crack sounds out and suddenly beams of light engulfs him. Jason wraps his arms around his head when the top of the box finally comes off, he couldn’t help but gasp at the fresh air that now surrounds him.

“Jason? Jay!”

There are then arms grabbing his shoulders and pulling him up into a sitting position. His instincts were telling him to fight, however the voice and even the hands on him felt familiar so he sinks into them, letting them move him around as needed to. Another pair of hands soon join the first pair and Jason felt himself being lifted, he was in the air for a few seconds before he was lowered to the ground.

It was then Jason slowly unwraps his arms from his face so he could see what was happening. He rapidly blinks so his vision could adjust. Thankfully it was still night-time, meaning no bright lights were going to irritate his eyes, there was only the dull light of the moon enveloping everything.

“Jason?”

He blinks and turns to the sound of the voice and sees a frowning face of Bruce. Not Batman, but Bruce himself, the cowl was pushed back letting him see the worried expression of his father. Without even thinking about it, Jason launches himself at the man and wraps his arms around Bruce’s shoulders in a tight hug. Bruce hugs him back and strokes a hand up and down his back.

“It’s okay Jaylad. You’re fine. We’ve got you, you’re going to be okay.” Bruce says softly into his ear. “You need to calm your breathing down alright, can you do that for me?”

Right, he was still rapidly breathing wasn’t he. It’s only then, as he was hugging Bruce, that he realises he was also trembling. His hands were shaking like he was in an earthquake and he grabs Bruce’s cape in attempts to make it stop.

As he tries to work on his breathing he glances around and finds both Tim and Dick standing to the side, both of them thankfully looking unharmed. He also sees a large hole in the ground where piles of dirt was built up around it, a broken lid lays scattered just beyond it.

Fuck, he had been buried alive after all.

Jason quickly decides to try and not think about it and as a distraction he turns his attention onto his brothers. Tim was looking down at the hole while Dick was staring directly at Jason through his mask. Jason doesn’t react to that, instead he chooses to bury his face into Bruce’s neck and focuses on breathing.

He’s going to be okay, he tells himself, he’s out, they found him and he’s going to be fine. Once his body and mind has calmed down he’ll be able to hopefully move on from the night’s events and onto the next task.

He wasn’t alone as he had his family. He wasn’t going to die again, at least not anytime soon.

#Whumptober2020 #day four #buried alive #Jason Todd #bruce wayne #panic #Jason doesn't have a good time #angst #darkness #fanfiction #bad memories

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batkidsandco · 6 years

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Robin Song

(Well you guys asked for it. @asexualarkhamknight @naasad tagging you two because you’re the only ones who picked this)

Tim stared into the toilet bowl. It seemed to go on forever, though the smell made it feel like it was right under his nose. He could hear knocking but he wasn’t sure where it was coming from. It could be from inside his head for all he knew. “Tim are you ok?” Great he thought. It was Dick. He was kind of hoping it would be Bruce. With Bruce he could just say he’d been sick and get sent home or even to his old room. But Dick would want to make a fuss. A fuss Tim really didn’t need right now. “Timmy are you ok?” Tim opened his mouth to reply. Big mistake. His whole body shook as he emptied the last of his stomach contents. He heard the door open and Dicks voice say “Tim have you be…” Tim never heard the rest before he fainted dead away.

When he first woke up Tim couldn’t quiet tell where he was. Then slowly it dawned on him. He was in his old room at the manor. Groaning he rolled over and stared up at the ceiling. The last time he’d been here he’d taken a blow to the head some thug. He’d been fine, just a small concussion. Frowning he tried to remember what had happened last night. The last thing he remembered was being in the bathroom hearing Dick say something before… He groaned louder. He must have fainted in front of Dick. Great just great. With all his strength he pulled himself out of bed and made his way out of the room and to the dining room. The only one there was Bruce who was drinking his usual morning coffee. Tim sat down not too close to him, but not far enough to make it seem he was avoiding him. “Morning.” Tim tried to make his voice sound normal. Bruce grunted in response, looking up at Tim from behind his newspaper. Trying to ignore his stare Tim grabbed a slice of toast and started to nibble. Every bite made his stomach turn but he tried to ignore it. Eventually Bruce broke the silence. “I’m taking you to the doctors this afternoon.” “What why?” “Because you’re sick.” Tim looked at him, no longer avoiding his eyes. “It’s just a stomach bug I’ll be fine.” “Stomach bugs don’t make you faint. Anyway you have to be careful with your, condition.” Tim wanted to argue but he knew Bruce was right. He hated to think about it but he knew his missing spleen left him immune compromised. A simple stomach bug could easily turn into something much worse. “Until then you’re going to stay here and rest.” Tim groaned before he met Bruce’s eyes again. “Fine. I’ll stay.” He sighed.

Tim sat staring at the doctor but not really seeing him. What had started as what he’d thought would be a quick check up had lead to a bunch of tests and ended with this. The words squirmed around his head like a worms. Two words that no one should have to hear. Terminal and Cancer. “If your spleen had not been removed you might have another two or three years.” the doctor continued. “But as things are we can only give a year to 18 months.” Tim still didn’t say anything. What could he say? A year. That was all he had. And how much of that would be spent in hospital? How much would be spent to sick to leave his bed? “We’ll discuss treatment at your next appointment.” the doctor continued. “To give you time to come to terms with what I’ve said. And to think about what you want to do about your treatment.” Tim just nodded. He felt himself stand up. Felt Bruce lay his hand on his shoulder. Felt himself walk down the corridor and out the front doors. He felt himself climb into the car before hearing the door close. Not long after he heard Bruce climb in next to him. But he saw none of it. “So.” he heard Alfreds voice coming from the driver's seat. “What was the news?” The tears came before he knew what was happening. He felt Bruce pull him closer so he was almost on his lap. There he sat shaking and sobbing as Bruce smoothed his hair. “It’s not fair.” he finally managed to choke out. Bruce didn’t say anything. Neither did Alfred. Eventually Tims sobbing slowed, and he sat up and with Bruce’s help put on his seat belt. They said nothing on the drive back to the manor. Once there Tim climbed out of the car and walked inside all the way to his room. Unsure what else to do he climbed under the covers and lay there until he fell asleep.

A knock on the door was what woke him up. Not sure if he wanted to face whoever it was he lay still hoping they’d go away. The sound of the door opening proved it had been in vain. “Tim. The others are downstairs. I’ve already told them about…” Bruce’s voice tailed of. Tim curled up trying to make himself smaller. “Tim you have to face them eventually. Come on we ordered Chinese.” He didn’t need to say any more. Tim knew they’d only ordered it because it was his favourite. Begrudgingly he climbed out of bed and made his way downstairs. Everyone was sat in the front room, newly opened cartons of food and bottles of coke and grape soda on the table. Dick, Jason, Damian and Steph were arguing over what film they should watch. Cass and Duke sat watching but not saying anything. The bickering stopped almost as soon as they saw Tim. “Hey Timmy.” Dick smiled at him though there was a tightness to his voice. “Do you want to pick a movie?” he continued. “Please say yes. I don’t know how much more arguing I can take.” Duke joked. Nodding Tim approached the pile and looked at the selection. Eventually he picked an old 70s Sci-Fi movie. One he vaguely remembered seeing when he was still in Middle School. He wasn’t even sure if he’d even enjoyed it. But he didn’t want to take too long choosing. Just get this all over with, he thought. He sat in silenced between Steph and Cass only eating a few mouthfuls of sweet and sour pork and a spring roll. He did drink several glasses though. As soon as the film was over he stood up. “I’m going to bed.” he announced. No one said anything as he left. Onc in his room Tim wondered if he should shower. Before deciding he was too tired. I’ll do it in the morning, he thought as he climbed back into bed.

He could barely recognise his reflection. Or maybe he didn’t want to recognise it. This hairless skeleton with skin couldn’t be him. Tim had been on chemo for several months, though why he was bothering he didn’t know. “Tim! Are you ready?” Taking one last look at his reflection he pulled on his hat and picked up his bag. “Coming Dick!” he called back.

The ride to the hospital was a long one. Though whether the length was due to traffic or the awkward silence Tim couldn’t tell. Eventually Dick spoke. “So it’s your 18th next month. You got any ideas what you want to do?” Tim turned over from facing out the window to face him. “Dick I might not be alive in a month.” The smile on Dick’s face tightened. He hated being reminded Tim wasn’t going to get better and Tim knew this. But he didn’t care. He couldn’t forget he was dying, so why should anyone else? After another long silence Dick spoke again. “You know I think there’s a Green Day concert in Gotham the same week as your Birthday. I could take you. And I’m sure we could get tickets for your friends to come to.” he looked at Tim in a way that made him feel he had to answer. “Yeah ok. That sounds fine.” I’ll probably be too sick to leave my bed on the day but sure. He thought though he didn’t dare say anything out loud. The rest of the journey continued in silence.

Bruce stood alone in the cemetery looking down at the grave stone. It was was a smooth black stone with gold lettering that read Here Lies Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne Age 18. Tim had lived for 14 months after his diagnosis. Bruce remembered those last days.

A few days before he’d passed Tim had been rushed into hospital. They’d thought he was going to die there but he pulled through. “These will most likely be his last days.” The doctor warned as he sent them home. Tim spent the next two days in bed or on the couch watching TV. Too sick to do anything else. The second night after he’d come home Tim asked Bruce to stay with him. Bruce wasn’t sure how but it was as if the boy knew he wouldn’t wake up. Or maybe he didn’t want to wake up. That night Bruce sat stroking Tims hair watching the rise and fall of his chest get slower and slower until it stopped. After a brief pause he placed his hand near the boys mouth. Nothing. At first he considered getting Alfred then decided against it. It was 4 in the morning anyway. A few hours couldn’t hurt. It was only then he realised he was crying.

That was a week ago. Now Tim lay buried next to his mother. Bruce didn’t have a very high opinion of her after the stories Tim had told him. But it felt wrong to put him anywhere else. At the end of the day she was his mother and he does, no did, love her. With a sigh he turned to leave and started walking towards the gates, before something stopped him. Not a sound or a movement. More a feeling. The feeling of a presence. He turned around. Standing between Tim and Janet’s graves was a boy. A small skinny pale boy of 13, with dark hair and eyes that looked at Bruce with awe. Bruce recognised Tim straight away, he would have even if he hadn’t been standing in front of his own grave. Quickly Bruce looked around to see if anyone else was in the Cemetery. If anyone else was seeing this. But by the time he looked back the figure was gone. The cemetery was empty except for Bruce, and a robin who sat singing in one of the cemetery trees.

#ficlet #my fic #angst fic #tim drake #bruce wayne #dick grayson #character death #terminal illness #cancer cw

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